Immortal Shadows
by Drucilla Black
Summary: This is the true story of Peter Pan and the prices he and many others paid for their immortality and eternal youth...
1. Prologue

Immortal shadows

Authors notes: I hold no claims to any of the characters. This is just an idea I got in my head on a boring day at school. Reviews welcome. Flames only keep me warm in winter.

Warnings: Rated PG-13 for horror, violence, and supernatural elements. Might contain mild sexual content later on.

Prologue: Welcome young reader…

I am quite sure that most of us have heard of Peter Pan, the young, mischievous lad who remained eternally young and lived as a larrikin in Never Never land with the lost boys, and his fairy friend, Tinkerbell. Their days were spent playing games with the Indian tribe, conversing with beautiful mermaids, and playing childish pranks on the evil but cowardly pirate Captain Hook.

This story, though magical, is but a fabrication that keeps the young and the naïve silenced. A lie? No, not exactly. It is based very thinly on truth but the story is far from anything your parents or elders would ever tell you. It is a dramatic story of horror, greed, unrequited feelings and above all, deception and betrayal of trust.

Are you still interested, young reader? If so, scroll downwards, turn over to next page and you shall read the true tale of Peter Pan, the immortal child of eternal youth…


	2. Chapter One

Immortal shadows

Authors notes: I hold no claims to any of the characters. This is just an idea I got in my head on a boring day at school. Reviews welcome. Flames only keep me warm in winter.

Warnings: Rated PG-13 for horror, violence, and supernatural elements. Might contain mild sexual content later on.

Chapter One

London, June 6th, 1666. An attractive youth clad in fashionable attire of olive green made his way through the dimly lit streets. It was after dark but the streets were not silent. Rather, they seemed noisier now than they had during the day. Drunk and homeless people singing in tuneless voices on the streets. Groups of the higher-class making their way to social events. Working women standing at the corners of shops, exposing their cleavage and making suggestive comments at nearly every man who passed by. They were, the boy noted with a small smile, successful most of the time. 

"Master Peter!" One of the younger ones breathed as he passed by. He smiled at her.

"Marjorie. How nice to see you!" He was well acquainted with the workingwomen of London. In fact, he was well acquainted with many people in London, both higher and lower class. His Father was one of the highly respected members of London's upper-class society and would have been ashamed as well as angered if he knew of Peter's connections with the lower class women of London.

"Feel like some fun tonight, darling?" Marjorie pouted like the child she nearly was, exposing her cleavage for him. She was handsome with red curls tumbling to her shoulders, high, strongly defined cheekbones and deep brown eyes that had already lost their innocence. Peter had spent many a merry night in a feather bed with this young lady. Yet, for some unknown reason, tonight he found himself refusing her tempting offer and continuing on with his walk.

Tonight was Peter's 16th Birthday, but he was troubled. All his life, Peter had been a spoilt child. His Father was able to supply him with all the luxuries that most were unable to afford, such as a beautiful house, a governess, expensive foreign clothing and exotic foods. The Pan family had never been in debt to anybody and was envied by many. So why was he troubled? 

Peter was troubled because he knew that one day his Father would retire from his job and call on Peter to become the breadwinner of the family. Peter would have to work hard in order to receive money and this was not something he desired to do. Peter had no desire to earn his luxurious life as the adults of his society did. He had no desire to work hard or to grow old.

Peter was so lost in his train of thoughts that he did not notice the tall, cloaked figure before him. Quite suddenly, he collided with it and nearly fell over. 

"Excuse me!" He snarled, dusting himself off. He waited for the figure to either run away in shock or to apologize. It did neither but instead just remained still. Peter could see its eyes under the hood, bright like sweltering jewels.

"Thou art Peter Pan." It was a statement, not a question. Peter narrowed his emerald eyes in suspicion, forgetting his anger.

"Who might thou be and how dost thou know of me?"

"Tis unimportant right now." Replied the figure. Its voice was smooth and deep, obviously masculine. "What is important is what I can do for thee."

"I have everything a young man could ever desire and more." Peter sneered. The figure laughed, shaking his hooded head.

"You lie, Master Pan. I read thy thoughts and I see thou art unable to obtain thy deepest desires."

"Oh? And wouldst thou be caring to tell me exactly what my deepest desires are?"

"Of course." The figure beckoned for Peter to move closer. Hesitant, Peter inched closer and hissed in pain when long, skeletal fingers gripped his arm. When the figure spoke again, his smooth, deep voice had dropped to an eerie whisper.

"Thou never wishes to age. Every night, thou lie awake in thine expensive feather bed and fantasize of flying underneath the stars. Thou hast no wish to work as many others, including the peasants, must do. According to thee, every night and day should be lived as if it is thy final day on this Earth. And it must be eternally that way. And I have the power within me to grant those wishes, Peter."

"Nonsense! Thou art but a lowly beggar-man from the slums of London!" Peter hissed, trying to mask the fear and disclosure welling up within him.

"Tis untrue." Replied the figure. "I dost not lie to thee, Peter Pan. I have power within me to grant thy wishes with one motion as I have done for many others." His voice had gone back to its smooth, deep tone and for the first time, Peter found himself believing the cloaked figure before him. 

"Very well then, I question thee no longer." He answered steadily. "And I shall allow thee to grant mine own wishes, but only on one condition. I needst to know who thou art and what of thy appearance. Twould put me more at ease if I knew of thy name and appearance." 

Peter waited, not quite knowing what to expect. To his surprise, the figure laughed, and it was a strangely pleasant noise coming from the mysterious-looking figure.

"Oh yes, that is rather ill-mannered of me. Very well then, allow me to introduce myself." The figure bowed low, removing his cloak at the same time. "My name is Lucifer Octavius Hooks, Hooks to my companions." And for the first time Peter saw the face of the man who would be his teacher and mentor for many years to come. He was a slender man, nicely dressed in a black suite with red trim. His hair, sleek and dark as the night was tied back with a strip of ruby silk. His skin was ashen in appearance and contrasted strangely with his ruby eyes and dark hair. 

There was something swirling within the depths of those eyes that Peter didn't like. Deep within him, his conscience screamed 'Run away! Run from this man before it is too late!' but it was being buried by something else; desire. This man claimed he could grant Peter's deepest wishes, something that not even his wealthy, aristocratic parents were capable of doing. Slowly, he extended a hand towards Hooks in order to seal their agreement with a handshake.

Instead, Hooks used this gesture to his advantage, pulling the slightly built youth into his arms. Peter opened his mouth to protest but instead found himself screaming in shock and pain as Hooks newly acquired fangs buried themselves in the flesh at the bottom of his neck. The pain doubled along with a sickening sucking noise and Peter moaned weakly as Hooks continued to drain his blood. Then everything went black.


	3. Chapter Two

Immortal shadows

Authors notes: I hold no claims to any of the characters. This is just an idea I got in my head on a boring day at school. Reviews welcome. Flames only keep me warm in winter.

Warnings: Rated PG-13 for horror, violence, and supernatural elements. Might contain mild sexual content later on.

Chapter Two

When Peter first opened his eyes, all he saw was blinding white. He groaned in pain and blinked twice to make everything come into perspective. It was then he realized that he was lying in his own bed. 

"Must have been a nightmare." He murmured. There was a knock on the door.

"Peter, darling, art thou awake?" It was his Mother's sweet voice. The door opened slowly and Peter forced a smile onto his face.

"Yes, Mother." She clasped her hands together and smiled sadly. For a moment, she just remained where she was, then almost ran over to his bed, taking her only son into her embrace. Peter was rather surprised as he felt his Mother's slender figure shaking with sobs.

"Oh, my darling!" She half-sobbed, half-sighed. "Oh my darling, thy Father and mine self, we were so scared. Bishop John was ready to declare thee deceased. 'Tis but a miracle thou art alive and breathing!"

"I am afraid I don't understand, Mother…" Peter was feeling confused. His Mother didn't answer but instead embraced him again. Feeling drained, Peter relaxed into her gentle embrace, burying his face in the crook of her ivory neck. Suddenly, the strangest sensations began to wash over him. He found himself craving to do something.

"I thirst." He whispered. His Mother loosened her embrace.

"What didst thou say, my darling?"

"I thirst." He repeated, gripping her waist. "I thirst…for blood!" The sensations continued to wash over him, stronger than ever until, quite suddenly, they overtook his reason and he sank his newly acquired fangs into the slender neck of his own Mother. She didn't scream, but instead gave a short gasp before going completely limp in his arms.

Then, just as suddenly, the sensations disappeared, along with his fangs and Peter was left sitting on his bed, his Mother lying dead on his lap with two scarlet pinpricks on her neck from his fangs.

"Oh my God! W-what hast I done?" He felt like screaming but only managed in emitting a choked cry before breaking down and crying hysterically.

A thud distracted Peter from his misery. Tears still trickling down his cheeks, he lifted his chestnut head and found himself staring at Hooks sitting on the ledge of his window.

"Help me!" He pleaded, his voice little more than a rasp.

"But I hast already done so, Peter." Hooks answered calmly. "I hast granted thee thy deepest desires. For now thou ist, and thou shalt ever remain a youthful childe of the night."

"Childe of the night? I do not follow…"

"Thou art no longer a mortal human being, but an immortal vampire." Hooks was patient in his explaining and even more with Peter's reaction. The youth moaned raggedly.

"A vampire? It cannot be!!! Vampires are put to death here. I shall be dead before the week is out…"

"'Twill not happen, Peter, for draining thy Mother of her life source has declared your desire to be an immortal one."

"No! No!" Peter wailed. "I love my Mother! I never had any intentions of doing such a thing! 'Twas as if mine spirit were possessed by another!" Tears continued to fall freely. Hooks watched him, no expression on his gaunt face. He raised a thin, pale hand for silence.

"Thy tears will not bring her back, Peter. She departed from this world the very moment thy fangs pierced her neck. But worry not, for she is at peace and suffered very little."

"How canst thou tell me not to worry?" Peter shrieked. "I have taken the life of my beloved Mother, and have become an immortal creature in the time span of one night! The townspeople shall thirst to see my blood spilt because of mine atrocities, and thou hast the nerve to tell me not to worry?"

"Silence, young Peter!" Hooks commanded. "Now, cease thy worrying and pay attention. First of all, people shall assume thy Mother died naturally for thy fang marks are so insignificant the Bishop shall miss them or dismiss them as bites from a bug. Second of all, thou shalt not be detained by the townspeople for thou wilt follow me to the Land of Immortal Shadows, a place where the mortal are unable to cross the threshold of and the immortal dwell during the hours of the townspeople."

"Just where is this land?" Peter demanded. He was beginning to relax as the fresh blood coursed through his once-human body, dulling his worry and drowning his depression. Hooks smiled, revealing two sharp white fangs. He gestured towards the stars outside of the window.

"Cease your games, Hooks!" Peter snapped irritably. "All I see are the stars and their constellations, no land or gateway."

"Aah! 'Tis the beauty of this land, Peter." Hooks answered smoothly. "The gateway has been concealed in such a way that only immortals such as us have the power to find and pass through it!"

"So, thou ist telling me that nobody of mortal life has the ability to perceive or cross into this land?" Peter asked, growing excited. "While I dwell in this land I am safe from the angry hands of mortals?"

"Correct." 

"When may I see this land?" Hooks smiled.

"Right away." Peter's emerald eyes widened in astonishment. "We should leave right now though, Peter, for once the mortals stir and sunrise is upon us, we shall no longer be safe in London."

"Then right away is when we shall leave!" Peter urged, standing up. "But how, in the name of God, dost we cross the threshold of a land that is concealed somewhere within the constellations?" Hooks grabbed him by the arm and took him towards the window.

"We shall fly." He answered, hovering easily in mid-air. "Simply perceive that thou ist capable of flying under the stars, young Peter, and thou shalt be capable of doing so, for there be many things those of immortal being are capable of."


	4. Chapter Three

Immortal shadows

Authors notes: I hold no claims to any of the characters. This is just an idea I got in my head on a boring day at school. Reviews welcome. Flames only keep me warm in winter.

Warnings: Rated PG-13 for horror, violence, and supernatural elements. Might contain mild sexual content later on.

Chapter Three

Peter was rather taken aback at how effortless flying was turning out to be. Before long, he was soaring and swooping in graceful arcs around his new, more somber companion. Hooks merely smiled smugly and continued to fly in a straight line.

"First star on thy left side." He said after some time. "Dost thou see it, young Peter?"

"I do, Hooks."

"Then fly towards it! For through that star lies our gateway to the land of Immortal Shadows!"

"But how dost I-"

"No time for talk, young Peter!" Hooks urged, a note of panic creeping into his normally velvety voice. "Just do as I command thee and fly towards that lone star!"

Nodding, Peter obeyed the elder man and found himself blinded by brilliant white light. He cried out in shock, his hands groping the air for something, *anything* to hold onto. He came into contact with Hook's skeletal hand, which though was surprisingly hot to the touch; he hung on eagerly, appreciative of any kind of contact as they were spiraled into the white light…

When at last the blinding light vanished, Peter opened his eyes and found himself in a soft white bed of goose-feathers. The room was simply furnished and lit by candles hanging from a wrought-iron chandelier. Though the light they gave off was dim, Peter found it painful to keep open his eyes for too long and quickly closed them again.

//Where must I be?// He thought to himself. //I couldn't possibly be in the land of Immortal Shadows, could I?//

"Thou art, actually." Peter yelped in shock and quickly opened his eyes, looking for the source of the high, raspy voice. He saw nothing but heard the voice giggling at him.

"My apologies, Master Pan. I had no intentions of alarming thee after thy tiring journey." By now, Peter's eyes had accustomed to the candlelight and he was scanning the room in a panicked manner. Still he was unable to locate the source of the voice. That giggle again filled his ears and he leapt out of bed, ignoring his cramped muscles as he pulled a small dagger from his tunic-pocket.

"Now, now! Kindly dispose of that plaything, Master Pan. I shall not harm thee, and fear not, for I be not of demonic ancestry or blood, which is what thou hast assumed of me!" It was now obvious that the voice was that of a young woman, but Peter was still not prepared to trust the owner of the voice.

"If that be true, young maiden, the perhaps thou shalt be kind enough to reveal thyself to mine eyes!" 

"So it shall be done. Turn around." There was no malice in her voice, so why could Peter not bring himself to obey her? 

"H-how dost I know thou ist not attempting to f-fool me?" He stuttered.

"Cease this foolishness, Master Pan!" The young woman snapped. "Thou hast traveled to this land under the company and favour of my Master. I harm none under his favour unless I am commanded to do otherwise… …Now wilt thou not obey mine request and turn around?"

Inhaling deeply, Peter braced himself for the worst as he obeyed. He came face-to-face with a petite, fairy-like girl about his age. Her hair was a soft blonde colour, braided and wrapped twice around her head. Her complexion was pale, almost translucent, contrasting strongly against her scarlet lips and large, obsidian eyes. The red velvet gown she wore, along with the dim candlelight made her appear even paler than she really was. Her lips curled into a smile.

"Good morrow, Master Pan!" She curtsied. Peter gaped at her, confused. 

//I am positive I heard her speak, for there be nobody else with us… …so why did her mouth not open?//

"'Twas my gift from my master."

"What…I…How…You…But…" Peter was now very perplexed. Her smile widened in amusement.

"Telepathy. Thou art not actually hearing mine voice, but I am sending what I want thee to hear into thy mind and to thou, it seems as though I am talking to thee without any movement of mine lips. I am also gifted with the ability to read the thought of others."

"W-why not just talk?" Peter inquired. "Would it not be much simpler for all?" 

Her pale eyebrows raised in an expression he could not read. The girl beckoned towards him, opening her mouth. Hr peered close, and then yelped in shock.

"Thou…thou hast no tongue!" She nodded.

"A punishment I received as a mortal maiden for a crime I was falsely accused of. Hooks learned of my injustice and in return for…" She stopped suddenly.

"In return for what?" Peter demanded, wholly curious of this intriguing girl. She inhaled deeply, closing her dark eyes.

"In return for the eventual ownership of my soul, he promised me the prevail of much-deserved justice on those that wronged me!"

"And didst I not keep my promise?" Said a familiar voice. The two whipped around immediately. Hooks was standing in the doorway of the dim room, a knowing smile on his gaunt but handsome face. "My apologies, master Pan, for interrupting, but I was curious as to thy current condition. I see thou ist awake and acquainting thyself with another of my companions. Peter, meet Isobelle Von Delacloure." He paused for a moment as Isobelle curtsied again. "I trust the two of you shall become…close companions. But do be careful, Peter, for Isobelle ist the only female among mine companions and her affections are highly sought after by the others, are they not, Isobelle?"

Peter was unable to hear her reply, but he was sure that during the long silence, and due to the rapidly changing facial expression on the both of them, she was carrying on a rather long conversation with Hooks. He laughed suddenly, breaking the silence, and placed a skeletal hand on Bella's shoulder. She smiled triumphantly. 

"Very well, my Isobelle. I see thou hast taken quite a shine to our new companion. It shall be done, as long as thou promises not to allow thy emotions to get in the way." And with that, he left the room, his coat tails swishing gently. Peter looked at Isobelle in confusion.

"What happened just now?" Her laughter filled his mind.

"I simply requested that I was granted permission to be your 'teacher' in the ways of immortal life. 'Tis not as simple as one thinks, young Peter. But firstly, I must show thee around the land of Immortal Shadows." She linked her small arm through his and began to lead him out of the room. Peter found himself walking down an equally dim passageway with several mahogany doors on each of its sides. Isobelle ignored them and continued to lead him to the end of the passageway to a large door of black marble. Her tiny hand pressed against it firmly, and it swung open to reveal the most beautiful yet terrifying place Peter would ever lay eyes upon. 

The land was almost gothic in appearance. The grass was short and soft against his bare feet, and appeared to be the only growing thing in this unusual land, marked with the leafless bodies of elegantly twisted trees pointing to what he would learn was the eternally dark night sky. Ravens circled the sky, their midnight bodies made glossy by the light of the silvery moon. A lake was visible just footsteps before them. It appeared dark and murky at first sight, but when one looked closer, the water became crystal clear right down to the bottom of the lake where Peter could see beautiful, exotic fish with silvery scales. And amidst the sky shone millions of pure-white stars in many different constellations. Except one. One star, directly overhead, was a deep blood-red colour, and connected to no other star. It glowed and shimmered on it's own, and to Peter, it was one of the most hauntingly beautiful things he had ever seen.

"'Tis the star out of the land of Immortal Shadows." Isobelle had read his thoughts. She smiled at him. "I believe thou ist more than satisfied with what thou hast seen so far?" It was a rhetorical question, but he answered anyway.

"I feel right at home here."

"That is good. But do not become too comfortable right now, for soon, 'twill be time-"

"Time for what?" He interrupted. Isobelle glared at him, folding her arms.

"I would thank thee not to interrupt mine words!"

"Sorry." Peter said meekly. She shrugged, her smile returning.

"Think nothing of it. Now, as I was saying… …Soon, 'twill be time for us to visit the land of mortals, and there, Peter, thou shalt learn what those who reside in the land of Immortal Shadows are commanded to do."

"Canst thou tell me?" But Isobelle simply shut her eyes and gave no reply. Peter stared at her petite face, lips clamped tight together and eyes closed to the world. He was not yet aware of what it was they would be commanded to do, but something deep within him knew that was not going to enjoy whatever he would have to learn in the hours to come… 


End file.
